Beautiful Mess
by AddingHallowedAnnie
Summary: Ten years after Hogwarts, students find themselves coping with situations out of their depth with people they haven't seen in years. First FanFiction, lame summary. Rated M for possible future and adult themes, HG/DM, HP/GW, PP/NL, BZ/GW
1. Twenty Seconds

Chapter One

Twenty Seconds

Hermione sipped her tea and tried not to throttle Ginny for her senseless meddling yet again. Adjusting her position on the couch, she glared at Ginny's shameless smile and began to start explaining the reasons as to why her ingenious plan was doomed to fail.

"First off, this really is too short of notice, I have plenty of-"

"Such as what?" Ginny interrupted, "What do you have to do tonight that would directly interfere with you having a nice reunion with an old housemate that needs your help?"

"Well, if you must know," she started racking her brains for some conceivable excuse as to why she couldn't go tonight, "I- I have paperwork that needs to be completed immediately!"

"Hermione, paperwork was meant to be put off for situations such as these. Please? It's one evening and he really needs you!"

"Really Ginny, it's only been two weeks since Ron and I-" she began again, only to be disrupted by an unexpected apparition to her left.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear it seemed.

"Hey, 'Mione, have you seen my newest broom? I thought I had left it here somewhere because I can't find it at my place." Ron said smiling crookedly at her.

"Ronald," she started sighing in frustration, "I am in the middle of a discussion right now. Why on earth, would I know where your broom is? I not only don't fly, but I also don't give a flying hyppogriff about where you keep your belongings! But I assure you that it's probably no longer here!"

"Jeez 'Mione," he said in an exaggerated voice, "No need to be so hostile! I just couldn't find it and decided to check here. But hey, while I'm here, I wanted to ask you something! Tonight, since I'm sure you don't have plans, I wanted to offer you a second chance to fix things with me, go out to a nice restaurant. I'll even pay, I know I have a better salary than you do anyways," he said leaning against her kitchen island and stealing an apple from her centerpiece.

She was about to refuse his offer when Ginny decided to remind her brother of her presence.

"She can't," Ginny said cheekily, "She already has plans with a better man."

Hermione cringed, and closed her eyes briefly to brace herself for the oncoming storm. Today wasn't the day she wanted to deal with this by any means. Timidly opening her eyes to the silence greeting her, she saw Ron staring at her white faced. Shocked speechless, it seemed, until his face began to regain color as he recovered only for his face to turn an almost Gryffindor red with an expression to rival even the fiercest lion.

"Now Ron," she started, "I haven't-"

"What does she mean, you have plans with a 'better man'?" He shouted at her, "Who is it?"

"Well, Ronald, not that it's-"

"You common slut! How dare you start seeing other men just days after we've broken up! Whoring yourself out as soon as you get the chance to," His voice rising in volume, "I won't allow it!"

"I will have you know, Ronald Weasley," She spit, magic fizzing around in the air as her anger escalated, "that I am a rational independent woman and I will spend my time with whomever I choose, whenever I choose to and you will have no part in either of those decisions! As to the matter of tonight, I am busy! As to address the issue of your broom, I suggest you check the interior of your posterior because based on your current behavior it seems that must be where you left it!" She ended screeching.

Ginny who had been watching in the background, suddenly burst into a deafening fit of laughter and started crying hysterically at her suggestion. Hermione let loose a smug smile and the crackling air around her went flat as she looked into the depth of Ron's cruel brown eyes.

He grabbed her arm and tugged her close to him.

"I hope you know," he whispered bringing himself next to her ear, "that no one else is ever going to want a cold hearted pretentious bitch like yourself."

Hermione froze.

"I mean, look at you. Frizzy hair, pasty skin, used goods. What do you have, your brains?"

He leaned closer, "Any man would rather take a half witted bimbo rather than a mind like yours any day. Besides," he said his lips on her ear, "I only stayed as long as I did out of pity. I'm glad you broke it off, you never truly satisfied me anyways."

He pushed her away, turned his back and apparated away as Ginny wiped her eyes and her laughing fit abated. The exchange had lasted less than twenty seconds, but left her feeling as though it'd lasted minutes longer. She tried not to let the words settle in, it was best not to dwell on such things.

She bent over to pick up the apple he'd dropped when he started yelling and picked up her wand from the coffee table to change to wards so he couldn't apparate back in. Then she turned back to Ginny with a painted on smile and said;

"Why not," trying to sound chipper, "it's only one night. It couldn't do much harm!"

"That's the spirit!" said Ginny embracing her, "you'll show him exactly what he's lost!"

More than a few hours later after much prepping and more than a little hesitation, Hermione found herself outside of the Leaky Cauldron wearing heels that were going to kill her sometime that night, either from the pain of wearing them, or a strategically placed crack in her path. She was wearing her most flattering red satin dress and she'd even gone to the trouble of visiting a muggle store and picking some very risky undergarments at Ginny Weasley's persistent pestering.

Feeling quite ridiculous and a bit ashamed of how much effort she had put into her appearance she wobbled up to the entrance of the bar in the unnecessarily high strappy heels that she'd borrowed, (also at her previously mentioned friend's insistence) and half walked, half stumbled over to the bar where she was to meet her date.

In her haste to put some distance between herself and her hesitant thoughts, she found herself sitting alone a whole half hour before the agreed meeting time. Positioning herself more comfortably in a shadowed corner of the bar, she took heed of Ginny's advice and ordered two shots so that perhaps she would be more relaxed when he finally arrived. With the a shot of fire whisky burning a molten path down her esophagus, she decided to review all of the information she had gathered about her old house mate.

While once a scared timid boy, Neville Longbottom had finally grown into be quite the man. He had shed his round boyish physique and acquired a tall, lean frame that had even made the cover of Witch Weekly sometime last month. Not only was he handsome, but he had also made a small fortune paving the road for new cutting edge medicine using his natural talent in herbology. He even took it a step further and made some of his magical remedies available to the non magical communities of the world and consequently made twice the profit, or so the magazine had gushed. It had finished off pronouncing him today's most eligible bachelor.

After reading the article, Ginny had taken it upon herself to visit Neville at his office. She might have embellished the story a bit, but she claimed that there were dozens of attractive women all dressed in various states nearly busting down the front door.

The only way she had been able to get in was by forcing her way through the crowd to his very dishevelled appearing receptionist who "very nearly threw a stapler at her for even approaching her desk!" The only way Ginny had survived the crazed older woman was by waving her press pass (from the Quidditch magazine she reported for) at the woman and claiming that she needed a statement from Mr. Longbottom about his old schoolmate Ronald Weasley.

Taking the second shot Hermione found herself unintentionally thinking back on her ex fiance.

He was the keeper for the Chudley Cannons these days, and much to Hermione's dismay, she couldn't go a day without hearing something from someone about his latest win, or his, "rugged face that just begged to be lavished" or "his flaming red hair that looked perfectly bedraggled all the time". Mostly from co workers and envious women she'd met on the street, even while they had been dating. She didn't bother to tell them that he spent more time and effort on his hair than she did in a month, or that his rugged face was just a mask to hide his blatant lack of character and intelligence.

"No," she thought to herself chiddingly, "I'm not here to dwell on my ex."

Forcing herself to focus back on recalling her friend's tale, Ginny had explained how she had eventually infiltrated Neville's office to find him slumped over a microscope examining the magical and non magical properties of some species or plant or another.

"At the sight of me, Neville practically sprinted across the room and embraced me! He spoke relentlessly about how thrilled he was to see a familiar face, especially one as luminescent as mine," Ginny had related to her, although that was probably one of her embellishments.

After they had exchanged pleasantries and caught up a bit, Ginny had breached the subject of what had brought her into his office. She had suggested that he do something to get rid of the "blonde gold digging bimbos" that plagued his office by being seen on a date with an attractive past housemate of his. After assuring him that she was indeed still with Harry and mentioning Hermione herself, he "let loose a smile that practically split his face in half, and nearly blinded her in its brilliance" and he had agreed wholeheartedly with her scheme. Neville stated the next time he was free, a Friday almost two weeks later, because he was on the verge of another break through and had a few meetings to attend.

Ginny having had set the date and agreeing on her behalf had kept this entire exchange from her until hours before the said arrangement. Which is what she had been explaining the moment before Ron had arrived in her living room. Apparently, Ginny had done all of this the day after she had dumped Ron and had decided not to tell her in advance because she didn't want her to, "overthink everything and come up with some seemingly logical but convoluted reason to not go catch up with an ex classmate and maybe have some really nice sex with one of the most wanted men in Britain afterwards."

The whole thing was insane, and she was going to firmly object to her friend's crazed plan until that buffoon had had the audacity to appear in her apartment.

Letting loose a frustrated sigh and signalling the bartender for another shot, she glanced up at the clock again and saw that it was now thirty minutes past the time that Neville was supposed to meet her there.

"Actually, make that two." Hermione said to the bartender.

And she downed both within seconds, wondering to herself where in the wizarding world her date was that could possibly interfere with him appearing punctually for their present reunion.

* * *

Neville Longbottom rubbed his eyes tiredly as he tried to focus on the sample of mandrake root that might possibly be the key to preventing wizards from being influenced by the Imperius curse, but finally giving up and sighing in frustration as his vision became glazed over again. He was under a strict deadline for the Ministry whom had wanted viable samples by the next months time due to some large scale Aurora mission that was "top secret but of the utmost importance" the success of which depended on his research being finished.

Stepping away from the Mandrake root samples he put his head in his hands and tried to rub moisture back into his dry, probably red, over exhausted eyes. Finally glancing at his watch as his hands fell, he realized with a start that it was five minutes until his pre arranged meet with Hermione was supposed to take place.

Flying into a panic, he threw his white lab jacket unto its proper hook and nearly fled his lab by the front door, but came to his senses in time to release the know before it was turned.

Ever since he had gotten lost in his work and blew off that date with Lavender Brown, she had made his life a living hell. One would think that a really nice description of him and a picture of his face on the cover of Witch Weekly would be a really poorly planned way to exact revenge upon a fellow like himself, but it wasn't. In fact, it was quite ingenius on her part, and he often found himself wondering if she'd been sorted into the correct house.

After that issue had been published, every available single witch in magical England had been vying for his attention. Dream come true, right? Wrong. He couldn't get anywhere without being overrun by a flock of crazy eyed females looking to win his attention by confessions of love, various impressive feats, or by publicly debasing themselves by promising lewd things or wearing the most absurd outfits.

None of them really knew him, but they knew he had money and influence in the Wizarding World, and that was enough for them.

Not that it hadn't been a tad entertaining at first, in fact he had met a plethora of interesting people. A lawyer that was also a gymnast in her spare time, a priest who claimed that she could "enlighten" him if he agreed to come away with her to a remote location for an interminable amount of time, and even a very interesting man who offered to show him a wand the likes of which he'd never seen before. To which he replied that he already had a wand, and wasn't interested in anyone else's.

It got exhausting quickly though. He couldn't leave his office by the front door, couldn't go to his favorite restaurants, walk in the park, visit friends, shop for groceries, he couldn't even go home without encountering a few women or the occasional man thanks to Lavander's posting of his address in the fine print at the bottom of the article.

This would be his fifth week living in a hotel suite, ordering pizza, and sneaking out the back door of his office as he was now. That's why he had been so ecstatic when Ginevra Weasley had offered him a simple and painless solution to his current predicament.

Hermione Granger, brightest witch of their age and pretty damn attractive to boot. She'd always been kind to him at Hogwarts, helping him with potions, tutoring him when he needed it. She had really only stunned him that one time first year, and he had had it coming, provided the circumstances.

This date had come at a convenient time, he admitted to himself, but that wasn't the only reason he had agreed to it. He could picture himself with her, they were friends before, they could hold a good conversation and she was the sturdy reliable type that he could count on in the long run.

Speed walking to the apparition spot in the back alley behind his building, he was seconds away from flashing to his hotel room, changing into a nice suit, and finally gaining back some of the normalcy he'd lost in a perfectly respectable woman.

That was until a noise caught his attention.

Walking toward the source, he glanced behind the dumpsters and all thoughts of Hermione Granger were extinguished in one fatal moment.

* * *

Draco Malfoy hadn't even planned on being in town that night. He was supposed to be at a business meeting in Italy, but the wizards had called it off last minute.

So he was stuck, with absolutely nothing to do, on a Friday night. That simply wasn't acceptable. Usually, he would go to some posh bar in a different city and seduce a few beautiful women into bed with him. However, tonight he wanted a challenge which is how he had found himself walking into the Leaky Cauldron alone.

Occasionally, he had a wingman of some sort, it used to be Theo, but as of recently he had settled down with a Greengrass of some sort. Daphne? Astoria? He wasn't sure, he ceased to care the moment Theo had told him he was keeping her company one night after her cat died and eating chinese food instead of coming out with him. People were so unreliable.

Blaise Zabini had taken Theo's place but he was prone to disappearing suddenly and unexpectedly. It had gotten to the point where Draco had quit questioning him and Blaise would just accompany him whenever he saw fit.

Walking through the enterance, he took in the scene in front of him. What was before an old hole in the wall bar had undergone some renovations, there was better lighting, new tables and silverware and a new kind of crowd. The Leaky Cauldron was not what it used to be in his younger years. It was a hot spot now for a variety of travellers and exotic women just passing through.

Standing against a wall near the entrance, Draco scanned the room for his target settling on a woman with wavy black hair in a red-violet satin dress that betrayed a playfullnes bust was elegant enough that she didn't look to be the desperate type. Honing in on his target, he took note of her drink and ordered a duplicate for her plus one for himself. Barely even glancing at the bar he took the drinks and sauntered over to her table like he was God's gift to all of womanhood. Which he was, just to clarify.

The woman glanced up at him as he offered her the drink and smiled seductively. He just knew he'd be taking someone home that night.


	2. Slugs and Thugs

It was now an hour past when Neville was supposed to arrive, and Hermione Granger was losing faith after the fifth shot and more than a little senseless dwelling.

There was a reason that Hermione never drank. She tended to over analyze things enough when she was sober, let alone whenever she got smashed. Last time she had a night like this one was the first time Ron cheated on her with an avid Chudley Cannons fan. She'd been denying it for a long time because she loved him and thought he was trustworthy, but war and fame changes even the best of men.

She got the tip off from one of his teammates that he'd gone home a day early because he had said something about wanting to surprise his fiance and suggested that she take the night off. Hermione was giddy, Ron was by far not the romantic type by any means, the fact that he was taking a day away from his team just to surprise her was huge. She spent four hours prepping for the night he came home, they didn't get to see each other often during the season so she wanted everything to be perfect.

She was nearly done, but remembered that she had left her best lingerie at Ron's from his last venture back. She figured that surely he wouldn't be home yet, usually he'd get in around ten and it was only nine. So, she apparated over to his flat only to see the party had started without her.

He hadn't heard the pop accompanying her entrance into the room and his back was to her. It became evident from noise alone what was happening in the dark flat and thankfully she couldn't see much of it. Her first impulse was to apparate straight back to her apartment like she'd never been at Ron's at all, but then this atrocity would continue.

Feeling slightly vindictive and more than a little angry, she muttered the spell for the slug vomiting charm that had backfired onto Ron during their first year. She only waited a few seconds until:

"What the.." and then the sound of disgusted female shrieking filled the flat.

Amongst the chaos, Hermione set her engagement ring next to his kitchen sink and apparated away taking one last look at her beloved before she left. She couldn't tell if the pain on his face when he recognized her was due to the fact that he'd been caught, that he felt remorse for his actions, or if maybe it was just the slugs. She was betting on that last bit.

Turning on the spot and apparating back to her apartment she immediately changed the wards so he couldn't follow her. Searching through her cabinets, she found her stash of wine and decided that it would be a great night to empty the bottle. It had been a promotional gift from her work, it was stronger than most wine created by wizards, so she'd kept it and had been savoring it little by little after more difficult days just to relax.

It had been still mostly full when she started, but it was gone within an hour as she laid on the sofa in her living room and stared at the ceiling. She quickly began to realize how stupid it had been of her to get drunk like that, as all she could think about then was Ronald. She began to realize how short sighted she'd been when he said that he was taking extra trips with his buddies to discuss strategy, and to meet the Quidditch legends across Europe.

First she began to dwell on the happy times, the pre war era, then their first kiss in the midst of the battle raging about them and how it'd felt to find that one scrap of happiness amongst all the death and the dying. The nights they'd spent together, the nice dinners, the laughter, the proposal. It was all a blur of good times.

Although, nothing was perfect. Their relationship had been far from it. They still fought like children sometimes, over the silliest things. She'd worked a night he was coming home, he was gone for their anniversary, someone left hair in the sink, someone forgot to bring home another gallon of milk, and it wasn't his turn to make breakfast that morning. It was tiring, and reflecting back she didn't know why she put up with it for so long.

Ginny had eventually come over to check on her, after she heard her brother had gone to the hospital for the slug incidence and that an unknown woman was seen leaving his flat.

At that point Hermione had been curled in a ball crying on her couch in a robe, with that empty bottle of wine next to her. Ginny just sat with her that night, until she stopped crying and went to sleep. She stayed as well, to make sure that she didn't get alcohol poisoning from the entire bottle of wine she had consumed.

The next morning, Hermione had the most horrendous hang over and vowed never to drink that much again, no matter what ailed her.

Yet, here she was at the bar. Five shots down alone with Ronald's parting words still ringing in her head as she waited to for a man that it seemed wasn't going to show up. The longer she sat there and thought, the more her head started to spin, and she realized that she had probably had too much. She felt as though she was the one to about to vomit slugs, and darted for the back door of the Leaky Cauldron for some air.

* * *

Draco had now been chatting with this woman for an hour, and realized how truly dull she was. She spoke only of past acquaintances, which celebrities were up and coming in the latest muggle films, (who knew wizards could become fascinated with arbitrary moving muggle pictures) how the designer she was wearing only just became discovered, and how her cat looked gorgeous in its new outfit.

Usually, he had a way to peg interesting people from a mile away, but it seemed that his ability to do so was slipping. Sure, he acted interested in these mundane meaningless conversation but he didn't give a flobberworms backside of a care to anything they had to contribute. It was nice to stop pretending to listen and finally get them back to his loft. Then what they said and who they were ceased to matter, there wasn't much talking, other than the polite, "you'll find toiletries in the bathroom over there, you'll need to be gone in half an hour," the next morning. Then he'd apparate out for breakfast at a nice bistro.

"I'm going to go.. freshen up," his current companion whispered to him, "you're welcome to join me if you'd like."

Then she got up from the table to use the loo, leaving him with her equally dull friends that were staring at him as though he were prime rib. He'd never joined anyone in the loo his entire life, boy nor girl for any reason, and didn't plan to now. Making his excuse, he stood from his booth on the wall to nearly be knocked over by a woman in a red dress fleeing the premises by the back door. She was gone nearly as quickly as she came, but Draco could peg that head of hair from blocks away, even now.

He did say he wanted a challenge and things didn't get much more challenging than Hermione Granger. Even if nothing else came from it, he'd still get to feel her humiliation after he watched her lose her liquor in a back alley. Oh, the teasing that was about to commence. Sauntering towards the back door of the establishment leisurely, he opened the door to see Granger leaning up against the wall and struggling for breath. There wasn't a light outside this back door, just a street light further down the alley that bathed it in soft light.

She hadn't seen him yet, so he took a moment to admire the woman that she'd grown into. She stood with her eyes closed and her mouth open softly taking in the night air to calm herself. Her hair was less chaotic looking, now tamed to loose curls that trickled down over her breasts, which definitely had been less evident in her school robes. The red dress followed her curves nicely and the heels she was wearing accented the length of her legs and added height to her form. It seemed the know-it-all from Hogwarts had finally blossomed into something more decent to behold.

He had been about ready to step out of the shadows when he noticed something past her, underneath the street light. It was just a silhouetted black form, male in stature. Draco would've thought he'd been out for a walk, had he not stopped purposefully and noticeably to face the alley. He watched as the figure started to approach the back door that he was standing against slowly. His hood was up, so he couldn't see his face but the closer he got the more on edge Draco began to feel about the situation.

He'd been about to call out for Hermione to come back inside when the man closed the gap between the two of them and snagged her. Her eyes opened in surprise and finally saw him before the man clasped a hand over her mouth to silence her protests. The hood still concealing his face, the man froze as he too noticed Draco. He quickly tried to drag Hermione to the apparition point out in the street but Draco wasn't going to have it.

Draco lunged at the man fists raised and tore Hermione from his grasp as he struggled to remember where in his suit he kept his wand. Hermione darted back toward the Leaky Cauldron and the man lunged at Draco, pushing him to the ground in an attempt to recapture Hermione. As the man stood, Draco grabbed his ankle and he too fell on the pavement. At this point, Hermione had gotten to her purse and had her wand half way out which seem to convince the man it was time to leave. He struggled back to his feet and sprinted for the apparition spot, leaving the two of them alone, panting in the dark.

Draco got back on his feet and brushed the dirt from his suit to see Hermione slumped against the wall with her head on her knees. He sat opposite of her against the brick, deciding his suit was a lost cause at this point anyways, and started questioning her.

"So Granger, what brings you to the back alley of a pub all alone anyways? The weasel out catching balls all night with his Quidditch buddies?"

He waited for a moment for her response, but was greeted with silence. Usually she would say something in retort, surely time hadn't changed that.

"Granger?" he asked again.

This time he got on his knees to touch her leg and still found her to be unresponsive. He shook her a little, and she fell sideways on the ground, eyes closed and clearly passed out.

"Great," he said to himself, "I should have just gone to Italy. I told myself that I was taking someone home today, my fucking luck it would be a passed out Gryffindor."


	3. Silver Sheets and Shrieking

Chapter Three

If it had been anyone else out there that night, the results might have been much different, but thankfully it had been Neville Longbottom. When he found the cause of the noise to be a person, knocked unconscious, unrecognizably bruised and bloody left out behind a trashcan, he swept it up and quickly decided on a course of action. His first instinct was to apparate to the nearest hospital, but he wasn't sure what kind of trouble this person might be in and didn't want to be delayed by his recently found fame. Going with his second inclination, he apparated to his hotel suite and called in a favor from St. Mungo's hospital and they sent him one of the best Healers they had available immediately.

Neville set (what he now assumed to be a woman based on the long hair and shapely form) onto his bed and let the Healer run her tests as he left the room to give them privacy. She hadn't woken up at all during the apparition there or in the successive jostling since then. He found himself concerned about this unknown woman's health and wished that at least she was conscious so that he may discover her name and perhaps the names of the people that had left her that way.

Senseless violence and torture had always bothered him, probably due to what had happened to his parents. Neville didn't enjoy the war as others had. He didn't want to relive the tales of his most courageous moments, how it felt to cut the head of Nagini, what it was like being in the midst of all that death and destruction. It didn't interest him, he didn't see the point. He stood up for his friends because that's what needed to be done, as their protector but not for a love of violence. Seeing the poor woman left in the alley had sparked an anger in him that he hadn't felt in a long time. The kind he used to feel against Bellatrix Lestrange for his parent's fate.

After having coffee brought up to the sitting room in his suite, he waited patiently for the Healer to reappear and bring news to him of the victim. Thankfully the Healer they called didn't ask many questions and went straight work. Now that he thought about it, having a beaten and bloody woman in his bed probably didn't give off the best impression, not that he particularly cared. He visited his parents regularly throughout his life and most of the staff knew him to be a fairly kind stable human being. Even if this Healer did suspect foul play, it's likely that any rumors would be firmly disregarded by many working there.

Nearly an hour later the Healer came out of the room to speak with him.

"How is she? Has she woken up yet?" Neville asked.

"The patient's vital signs have stabilized now, she had lost a lot of blood due to a large gash in her head and across her back, but I've repaired them and hooked her up to an IV so she should start replenishing it steadily," the Healer explained, "I've cast spells to relieve the anguish and she should wake up sometime tomorrow or the next day. There may be left over scarring. Her hair will cover the one on her head, but not her back."

"Are there any signs as to who might have done this to her?" asked Neville.

"I've run some tests on some of the spells that were cast on her. We've found a way to detect the most recently cast spells on victims and trace it back to their wand type. Then we can consult Ollivander and other well known wand makers to deduce who might have cast them and make a case," she said, "I've extracted multiple data samples from her and I'll be bringing it back to St. Mungo's for testing, but I'll let you know what I find."

"Thank you for your assistance this evening, and send my love to Margret for me." Neville requested.

Margret Truff, the head of the hospital and him had become close over the years and she sympathized with his troubles. Also, he provided the hospital with discounted remedies for many magical ailments and consulted them on various magical plant life as possible cures for previously shot in the dark treatments.

"I'll do that for you Mr. Longbottom," said the Healer with a smile, "and also, before I leave may I ask you something?"

"Of course, anything."

"What are you going to do with her when she wakes up?"

Neville thought for a moment. For all the commotion of getting her here and calling the Healer he hadn't imagined what would come next, after she had awoken. Pausing for a moment to think, he finally turned back to the Healer.

"I imagine I'll ask her what her name is, and then go from there," Neville said slowly, "until we know the identity of her assailants or their reasons behind the attack, I don't think letting her go back into the wizarding world would be smart."

"So, you plan on keeping her here then?"

"I imagine it all depends on what happens once she awakens."

"Alright," said the Healer, "if any unexpected problems regarding her health arise once again just let us know and we'll be back in a jiffy. Best of luck Mr. Longbottom."

"Yes, thank you again for all of your help."

Then she apparated away. After that, Neville settled on the couch and found a spare blanket. All that was left to do was wait, after that he'd take it one step at a time.

* * *

Draco found himself in a slight dilemma, staring at Hermione Granger in the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron. Dragging her out to the street would look dreadful, as would carrying her over his shoulder like a hunter would with their prey. He imagined he could levitate her to the apparition point, but then he'd still be faced with the same issue because he'd have to hold her to apparate. Seeing no other option, he very reluctantly picked her up bridal style and carried her out beneath the streetlight and away from that damned alley.

Safely arriving at his loft, he gently placed Hermione down on his silver satin sheets and moved the covers over top of her. He stood there for a moment, pondering how nice she looked in his bed with the moonlight caressing her cheeks and highlighting the red sheen on her lips. Then he quickly remembered he had a drunken muggle born laying where he slept that was probably going to be pissed off and ungrateful for his help the next morning.

He sighed and rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. Had it been too much to ask for a nice one night stand on a Friday evening in Britain? Out of all the possible outcomes of the night, he just had to follow Granger to the back alley, and she just had to get drunk and almost kidnapped by a stranger.

That had been odd, Draco had to admit. What kind of trouble was Granger in to have deserved that kind of treatment? He'd seen the darker sides of such situations during the war, and nothing good had ever come from it. Usually it'd been for some forgotten favor, to ensure loyalty, or to take care of traitors giving information to the other side. He'd been very careful himself to stay out of the spotlight and away from any association with anyone suspected of being a sympathizer for muggle-borns or half bloods.

Draco had seen something on the ankle of the attacker as he'd left, some sort of large scar trailing further up his leg. He imagined that he should report the attack to the authorities, but he wanted to consult Granger about it in the morning first. It was her problem after all, not his. He just did the right thing by making sure she was okay and taking her home to keep her safe. After tomorrow he could forget about the entire thing and go back to random senseless sex, drinking and traveling everywhere and anywhere he felt like traveling just for the hell of it.

Other than the occasional business meeting, Draco didn't have to do much as CEO of his father's company. He approved all business model's and plans, sealed the final contracts with other large companies and only had to attend the most important meetings. Besides that, he had free reign to go and do as he pleased with his vast amount of wealth. Occasionally he'd stop at the Manor and have afternoon tea with his mother, but other than that and his few outings with Blaise, he didn't have any ties to anyone.

Reluctantly changing out of his nice evening clothes and throwing on some pants to sleep in, he laid as far from the drunk girl in his king sized bed as he could and tried to get comfortable. He almost couldn't sleep, he was too busy dreading the next morning when she would wake up and the angry questions would begin.

* * *

Closing his eyes, he tried to sleep fitfully although he knew his efforts would be futile.

It was the middle of the night when Neville woke up to the sound of a shrieking female coming from his bedroom. Getting up with a start and sprinting there he saw a very angry woman tearing at the AV in her arm, her arms darting around the room in a feral manner. Trying to assure her, he walked in with his hands up and started to speak.

"Hello, my na-"

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Well," Neville began again, "I'm N-"

"Wait, how did I get here and why am I hooked up to an IV?"

"If you would just allo-"

Before he could finish though, she was up and running toward the door, trying to push him out of the entrance of the bedroom and failing miserably, only to fall back to the floor, dizzy and probably weak from the blood loss. Neville sighed, this was going to be a long night.

"I'm Neville Longbottom," he said sticking his hand out to help her back up.

She looked up from the ground slowly, finally meeting his eyes.

"Pansy Parkinson," she said, ignoring his hand and struggling back to her feet on her own.

"Pansy," Neville tried again, "Do you remember what happened to you earlier tonight?

She stopped for a moment and sat back heavily on the bed. There was a lengthy pause as she just sat there slumped over thinking. Neville's mind was racing. Pansy Parkinson? The name wasn't quite registering with his tired befuddled brain. He never really liked Pansy, but he hadn't hated her either. Everyone else at school had taken to calling her "pug-faced" but he had always found her slightly attractive. They hadn't talked much but when they had, he'd felt more pity for her than he had disgust or anger. Her only close friends had been male Slytherins, and they hadn't seemed to care whether or not she was actually there half the time. At least he'd had loyal friends back at Hogwarts that would have stood up for him when he needed it.

"I don't remember," she said finally, looking at the floor intently and scrunching her face up, "I can't remember a thing. I was just off to go to my favorite restaurant, and then I decided to walk because it was nice outside. I remember leaving my apartment, locking the front door, and then... nothing."

She met Neville's eyes again looking frustrated.

"Where did you find me and how did I get here?"

"I was leaving my office through the back door and found you discarded behind a trashcan, so I brought you here and called a Healer. I didn't want to risk a hospital in case you were in some kind of trouble," he explained, now came the hard part, "Pansy, I'm not sure who attacked you but my friends are looking into it. I think you should stay here until we're sure you're not in any more danger."

Her eyes narrowed as she listened to him.

"And why should I stay here?" She retorted stubbornly.

"Because you have no memory of your attackers," Neville said calmly, "and I can honestly say, a suite at a hotel with me is probably the last place they'll come looking for you."


End file.
